The Apocalypse of John: A Commentary

By Francis J. SDB Moloney and Eugenio Corsini

In this major, paradigm-shifting commentary on Revelation, internationally respected author Francis Moloney brings his keen narrative and exegetical work to bear on one of the most difficult, mysterious, and misinterpreted texts in the biblical canon. Challenging the assumed consensus among New Testament scholars, Moloney reads Revelation not as an exhortation to faithfulness in a period of persecution but as a celebration of the ongoing effects of Jesus's death and resurrection. Foreword by Eugenio Corsini.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
• Release date: Sep 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9781493423798

Francis J. SDB Moloney

Francis J. Moloney, SDB (DPhil, University of Oxford), is Senior Professorial Fellow at Catholic Theological College, University of Divinity, in Melbourne, Australia. He is the former Provincial Superior of the Salesians of Don Bosco for Australia and the Pacific, and he formerly taught at Australian Catholic University and The Catholic University of America. Father Moloney is a Fellow of the Australian Academy of the Humanities, a Member of the Order of Australia, and the author of more than forty books. He is also a member of the editorial board for Paideia: Commentaries on the New Testament.

Book preview

© 2020 by Francis J. Moloney

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

ISBN 978-1-4934-2379-8

Unless indicated otherwise, Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture translations labeled AT are those of the author.

Scripture quotations labeled RSV are from the Revised Standard Version of the Bible, copyright 1946, 1952 [2nd edition, 1971] National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

For the Salesians of Don Bosco:

East Asia–Oceania Region

We have sinned and done wrong, acted wickedly and rebelled, turning aside from your commandments [apo tōn entolōn sou] and ordinances. We have not listened to your servants the prophets [tōn doulōn sou tōn prophētōn].

—Daniel 9:5–6a (Theodotion)

It is he that made heaven and earth and fashioned man in the beginning,

who is proclaimed through the law and the prophets, who was enfleshed upon a virgin,

who was hung upon a tree, who was buried in the earth, who was raised from the dead and

who went to the heights of heaven, who sits at the Father’s right hand,

who has power to save everyone, through whom the Father did his works from beginning to eternity [ap’archēs mechri aiōnōn].

—Melito of Sardis (On Pascha 104)

All things are twofold in our Lord Jesus Christ. His birth is twofold, one of God before the ages [mia ek theou pro tōn aiōnōn], and one of a virgin in the consummation of the ages [kai mia ek parthenou epi synteleiai tōn aiōnōn].

—Cyril of Jerusalem (Catechesis 15.1)

Contents

Cover    i

Half Title Page    ii

Title Page    iii

Copyright Page    iv

Dedication    v

Epigraph    vi

Foreword by Eugenio Corsini    xi

Preface    xiii

Abbreviations    xxi

1. Introduction    1

Introductory Questions    1

Literary Questions    6

The Challenge of a Literary Design    19

A Proposed Literary Design    25

Consequences    32

Conclusion    33

2. Interpreting the Apocalypse 1:1–8    39

The Prologue (1:1–8)    41

God’s Mediated Revelation of Jesus Christ (1:1–3)    41

The Coming of the Christ (1:4–8)    45

3. Interpreting the Apocalypse 1:9–3:22    49

Heavenly Encounters (1:9–20)    50

The Voice from Behind, like a Trumpet: The Revelation of God’s Initial Saving Intervention (1:9–11)    50

EXCURSUS 1: Witnesses to the Law and the Messianic Promises of the Prophets (1:9)    53

The Sight of One Speaking: The Revelation of God’s Definitive Saving Intervention (1:12–20)    56

The Seven Churches (2:1–3:22)    61

Traditional Problems    61

Churches or the Church?    63

Literary Features    64

Mediation    67

Ephesus: The Fall from Original Love (2:1–7)    67

Smyrna: Affliction and the Plagues in Egypt (2:8–11)    69

Pergamum: Israel in the Desert (2:12–17)    70

Thyatira: Sinful Rulers in Israel (2:18–29)    73

Sardis: The End of Israel and Judah, with a Small Remnant Remaining (3:1–6)    75

Philadelphia: Return of a Weak Israel and Rebuilding the Temple (3:7–13)    76

Laodicea: Israel’s Rejection of the Messiah and the Coming of the Son of Man (3:14–22)    78

4. Interpreting the Apocalypse 4:1–8:1    87

Heavenly Encounters (4:1–5:14)    89

God and Creation (4:1–11)    91

The Lamb and Universal Salvation (5:1–14)    96

Opening the First Four Seals (6:1–8)    104

The First Seal: The White Horse and Its Rider—Humankind’s Potential (6:1–2)    104

The Second Seal: The Bright Red Horse and Its Rider—Violence (6:3–4)    107

The Third Seal: The Black Horse and Its Rider—Toil (6:5–6)    107

The Fourth Seal: The Pallid Green Horse and Its Rider—Death (6:7–8a)    108

A Concluding Summary (6:8b)    109

Opening the Final Three Seals (6:9–8:1)    111

The Fifth Seal: The Saints of Israel, Waiting under the Altar (6:9–11)    111

The Sixth Seal: The Cosmic Effects of the Death of the Lamb (6:12–7:17)    115

The Seventh Seal: Silence in Heaven Greets the Victory of the Lamb (8:1)    123

5. Interpreting the Apocalypse 8:2–11:19    129

Heavenly Encounters (8:2–6)    131

Blowing the First Four Trumpets (8:7–13)    134

The First Trumpet: Burning a Third of the Sea (8:7)    135

The Second Trumpet: Poisoning a Third of the Sea (8:8–9)    136

The Third Trumpet: Poisoning a Third of the Springs (8:10–11)    136

The Fourth Trumpet: Destruction of a Third of the Earth’s Light (8:12–13)    137

Blowing the Final Three Trumpets: The Woes (9:1–11:19)    139

The First Woe: The Fall of Humankind (9:1–12)    140

The Second Woe: God’s Initial Intervention in Israel (9:13–11:14)    145

1. Warfare: The Severest Consequence of the Fall of Humankind (9:13–21)    145

2. The Little Scroll: God’s Initial Intervention in Israel’s Sacred History (10:1–11)    149

3. The Temple, the Law, and the Prophets: God’s Presence in Israel (11:1–14)    154

The Third Woe: The Fulfillment of the Mystery of God (11:15–19)    162

6. Interpreting the Apocalypse 12:1–18    167

The Woman, the Son, and the Dragon (12:1–6)    170

Heavenly Warfare (12:7–12)    180

The Woman and the Dragon (12:13–18)    185

7. Interpreting the Apocalypse 13:1–18    189

The Beast from the Sea (13:1–10)    190

EXCURSUS 2: The Lamb That Was Slaughtered from the Foundation of the World    199

The Beast from the Land (13:11–18)    205

8. Interpreting the Apocalypse 14:1–20    213

The Lamb and the First Fruits (14:1–5)    214

The Son of Man and God’s Judgment (14:6–20)    217

The First Group of Three Angels (14:6–13)    218

The One like a Son of Man (14:14)    222

The Second Group of Three Angels (14:15–20)    223

9. Interpreting the Apocalypse 15:1–16:21    229

Heavenly Encounters (15:1–8)    230

The Literary Structure of 16:1–21    236

The First Four Bowls (16:1–9)    239

The Final Three Bowls (16:10–21)    242

The Fifth Bowl (16:10–11)    242

The Sixth Bowl (16:12–16)    243

The Seventh Bowl (16:17–21)    248

10. Interpreting the Apocalypse 17:1–19:10    255

The Whore Seated on the Beast (17:1–18)    257

Lament over the Destruction of Jerusalem (18:1–20)    270

The Description of Fallen Babylon (18:1–8)    273

Lamentations over Fallen Babylon (18:9–19)    277

Heaven, the Saints, the Sent Ones, and the Prophets Rejoice (18:20)    279

Fallen Babylon and the Twofold Rejoicing of the Multitudes (18:21–19:10)    281

Babylon Is Cast Down (18:21–24)    282

The Rejoicing of the Saints of Israel (19:1–3)    284

The Heavenly Court Rejoices (19:4–5)    286

The Marriage of the Lamb (19:6–8)    287

Closing Dialogue (19:9–10)    290

11. Interpreting the Apocalypse 19:11–21:8    293

Preparation for the Final Battle (19:11–16)    296

The First Aspect of the Final Battle (19:17–21)    300

The Thousand-Year Reign: Judgment and the First Resurrection (20:1–6)    305

The Second Aspect of the Final Battle (20:7–10)    311

The Voice from the Throne: Judgment and the Second Death (20:11–21:8)    314

12. Interpreting the Apocalypse 21:9–22:5    325

The New Jerusalem (21:9–21)    326

Dwelling in the New Jerusalem (21:22–27)    335

Life and Light (22:1–5)    339

13. Interpreting the Apocalypse 22:6–21    345

The Authoritative Interpretation of This Book: Worship God! (22:6–9)    348

The Authoritative Interpretation of This Book: Come! (22:10–17)    352

The Authoritative Interpretation of This Book: Warning, Promise, and Response (22:18–21)    358

Bibliography    363

Index of Authors    377

Index of Scripture and Other Ancient Sources    385

Cover Flaps    405

Back Cover    406

Foreword

EUGENIO CORSINI

I greet the publication of this study by Francis J. Moloney with gratitude and hope. Gratitude for the dedication he has given to my interpretation of the Apocalypse, translating a first version into English as far back as 1983 (The Apocalypse: The Perennial Revelation of Jesus Christ). He has returned to it as inspiration for his own reading of the Johannine text with this new publication. I greet it with hope that his efforts will continue to spread and deepen among those who approach John’s book, for motives of faith or scholarship, the central idea that we share. The revelation of the Apocalypse is not an obscure prophecy about the catastrophic end of the world and the second coming of Christ. On the contrary, it is the story of a past event that embraces the whole of the history of salvation, beginning with the creation of the world and culminating in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Professor Moloney, in his preface to this work, describes the task of the translator as thankless. But even more thankless is the task of questioning the centuries-long, deeply ingrained, interpretative prejudice that sees in the Apocalypse a foretelling of the end-time events. I trust that Professor Moloney’s careful, profound, and skillful capacity to capture the narrative shape of the text will reopen debate on John’s book, guided by the hermeneutic xiiI suggested many years ago. It may appear to be new, but it is in fact as old as the earliest Christian communities that read the Apocalypse, not as an announcement of the kingdom of God that will be realized only at the end of all time, but as a symbolic commentary on the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the slain Lamb who unfolds his saving activity from the foundation of the world.

Professor Eugenio Corsini dictated the Italian original of this foreword to his wife, Maria, a short time before his death in 2018. The English translation was provided by the author of this commentary. See the touching tribute to Prof. Corsini from his wife and son, Maria and Giovanni Corsini, Grazie, Eugenio, in Lombardi and Silvano, Apocalisse ieri oggi e domani, 9–10.

Preface

Eugenio Corsini, the former professor of ancient Christian literature at the University of Turin, had a distinguished career until his recent death on March 22, 2018, at ninety-four years of age. He had a special interest in the literature of the earliest Christian witnesses but eventually turned his attention to the Apocalypse, no doubt the most puzzling of NT documents. In 1980 he published an interesting study, Apocalisse prima e dopo. It made little impact. European scholarship rarely cites it.1 English-language commentaries have likewise taken little notice. A glance at the widely consulted works of David Aune, Ian Boxall, and Craig R. Koester indicates that Corsini’s work has made no impression. Only Aune’s commentary on Apocalypse 7:4–8 and 13:8 mentions it. Boxall’s work in the Black’s New Testament Commentary series never refers to it, while Koester’s outstanding Anchor Yale Bible commentary does not even list Corsini’s book in a 53-page general bibliography.2

There are reasons for this neglect. Not only does Corsini challenge an important interpretative paradigm, but also his work is published in Italian. To offset the latter difficulty, in 1983 I published an edited translation of his original 1980 volume.3 On reading the Italian original, I found his questioning of the more traditional interpretative paradigm fascinating. There were places in which his interpretation appeared to reach beyond the evidence, but his overall case was impressive. Aware that his paradigm-questioning work would receive little attention from English-speaking scholars in its Italian dress, I produced my English translation so that an alternative voice might be heard over the confused and confusing variety of interpretations that rest upon what has long been a traditional interpretative paradigm.4

There may be widespread agreement that the document was produced to address some form of imposed suffering on the Christian community in the second half of the first Christian century (or later), generally (but not always) identified with the Asian churches addressed in 2:1–3:22. However, there are serious differences of opinion about what that suffering was, when it occurred, who imposed it, and the motivation and nature of the Christian response. Traditionally understood as Roman persecution and Christian martyrdom under Nero or Domitian, scarcity of evidence for such persecution has led scholars to focus on the imposition of the emperor cult across the Roman Empire. However, Steven Friesen has argued that, although strongly present in Asia, the cults may not have been a threat to nascent Christianity in the first century.5 The use of an apocalyptic literary form and the clumsiness of the author’s use of the Greek language, shot through with relentless allusion to the Hebrew Bible but never a direct citation, generate further difficulty in formulating a coherent literary structure. Such a situation renders multiple interpretations inevitable.

As so few commentators devoted attention to his proposed reading of the Apocalypse, Eugenio Corsini returned to it in a second edition of his work in 2002.6 The work that follows is a further attempt, on my part, to draw his proposal into the broader discussion, especially for English-language readers of the Apocalypse. However, it is not a translation of his conclusions into an English-speaking context. Not everything in Corsini’s interpretation is convincing. But I am fascinated by, and indeed theologically attracted to, his hermeneutical key of the perennial impact, from before all time, of the saving effects of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the participation of the saints in the salvific event of the death of Jesus before the foundation of the world (13:8).7

The cover created for this alternative commentary on the Apocalypse of John is representative of the widespread Eastern Christian iconographic theme of the anastasis portraying the crucified and risen Jesus’ descensus ad inferos (descent into hell or harrowing of hell). He raises Adam and Eve to life by taking their hands and leading them upward. Old Testament kings and prophets look on. Although the artistic tradition is associated with the temporal, indicating what happened in the silence of Holy Saturday (see 8:1), it can also be interpreted as an indication of the transtemporal saving presence of death and resurrection from the foundation of the world (13:8).

This iconographic tradition powerfully illustrates the transtemporal perspective of the Apocalypse. Although the document certainly addresses Christians, it overflows with the confidence that the saving action of Jesus’ death and resurrection has always been present.8 From the first page John acclaims the crucified and risen Christ and the kingdom of priests to which Jesus’ death and resurrection gave birth (see 1:5–8, 12–18; 5:6–14). He wishes to lay bare the truth that the saints from before the historical event of the death and resurrection of Jesus anticipated and participated in that saving action. He asks that Christians of all time be aware that their names can be written in the book of life of the Lamb who was slain from before the foundation of the world. They can confidently look forward to the one who will come quickly, and they can cry out, Come, Lord Jesus (22:20).

At this stage of my academic life, I do not have the energies required to return to the thankless task of translation. The following reading of the Apocalypse is my rethinking and rewriting of the interpretation of Eugenio Corsini, guided by the questions he poses to the traditional interpretative paradigm, represented in various ways by contemporary commentary on the Apocalypse. I also indicate that contemporary study of the Apocalypse is moving away from the traditional interpretative paradigm.9 I am unable to enter into debate with the entire commentary tradition, the monographs, and the never-ending journal literature.10 My main discussion partners will be the contemporary commentators already mentioned: David Aune, Pierre Prigent, Heinz Giesen, G. K. Beale, Eduardo Lupieri, Ian Boxall, and Craig Koester.11 I have also included regular reference to the more accessible, but very influential, studies of Adela Y. Collins, M. Eugene Boring, Charles Brütsch, Richard Bauckham, and James L. Resseguie.12

I differ from Corsini’s reading of the Apocalypse in my adoption of a narrative approach to the reading/listening experience. As a fine literary and historical critic, Corsini moves across the document, drawing parallels and resonances from later passages as he builds his case. This is a solid traditional way of supporting philological, rhetorical, and theological interpretations. In general, however, I will allow the narrative to unfold word by word, verse by verse, and chapter by chapter. This means that I will only look back to what an implied reader has already encountered in the reading/listening experience to that point. Only rarely do I have recourse to elements in the narrative that lie ahead. This standard narrative-critical practice has marked my approach to narratives for some decades.13 I leave it to those better-informed, the result of a lifetime of professional involvement with the complexities of the Apocalypse and Jewish apocalyptic literature (especially 1 Enoch, 2 Enoch, 4 Ezra, 2 Baruch, Jubilees, Life of Adam and Eve, Apocalypse of Moses, Liber antiquitatum biblicarum, Psalms of Solomon, Sibylline Oracles, and the Dead Sea Scrolls), to decide whether this study has anything to add to contemporary conversations about the canonical book the Apocalypse.14

My major, lifelong interests have been elsewhere,15 but the chord amplified here has been sounding in the back of my mind since 1982. As a Roman Catholic priest whose daily prayer across the Easter season is marked by a cursive reading of the book of the Apocalypse, I also hope that what follows might serve as a helpful guide for many who tell me each year that reading this document from the church’s Sacred Scriptures as we celebrate Easter does not make sense. Maybe the Apocalypse does make sense, provided one has the key to unlocking its secrets. I am not, of course, the first to attempt that,16 but I trust that what follows may raise an alternative, even if challenging, voice to which both lay readers and my colleagues might devote some attention. Leonard Thompson justifiably remarks about the interpretation of the Apocalypse, We all have our axes to grind.17 I certainly have mine!

I remain in great debt to Professor Eugenio Corsini, who first fired my interest in this possible alternative reading of the Apocalypse during a patristics conference in Rome in 1980. He supported this interest over the years, indicated by his forceful yet gracious endorsement of this book, dictated to his wife, Maria Robino, before his death in March 2018. I thank my former student Stuart Moran, who has a professional fascination with the Apocalypse and an awareness of the contribution of Corsini. I also thank Patrick Flags Flanagan, a long-standing friend with a passion for the role of the Word of God in the life and practice of the Christian church. Stuart and Flags have accompanied the work that produced what follows. Stuart has guided me in my critical use of Corsini, and Flags has insisted that what I write make Christian sense. I am very grateful to an anonymous peer-reviewer who read my work respectfully and carefully, making some important suggestions that have greatly improved what follows. I thank the library manager and the staff of Mannix Library at Catholic Theological College in Melbourne, especially Kerrie Burn and Lisa Gerber, for their never-failing support, purchasing specialized studies, and accessing rarer publications through the interlibrary loan system. It would have been impossible to research and write what follows without their support. I thank Baker Academic and senior acquisitions editor Bryan Dyer for making this fine production possible. I am also in debt to Tim West, whose editorial support and skill have been unparalleled in my now-lengthy publishing career.

I dedicate this book to the several thousand Salesians of Don Bosco and Daughters of Mary, Help of Christians, who work for the young, especially the poor and abandoned, in the East Asia–Oceania region of my religious congregation. They are in Pakistan, Myanmar, Malaysia, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan, Japan, Korea, Mongolia, the Philippines, Papua New Guinea, Indonesia, Timor-Leste, Solomon Islands, Australia, New Zealand, Fiji Islands, and Samoa. Traditionally, Salesians do not read many books like the one that follows. However, these women and men are living signs that the Lord has truly risen.

Francis J. Moloney, SDB, AM, FAHA

Catholic Theological College University of Divinity Melbourne,

Victoria, Australia

1. It is not mentioned in Heinz Giesen’s 1997 commentary, Die Offenbarung des Johannes, nor in Pierre Prigent’s L’Apocalypse de Saint Jean. This edition was perhaps too soon after Corsini’s 1980 publication, but a completely rewritten version appeared as Prigent, Commentary on the Apocalypse of St. John. In it, Prigent never refers to Corsini’s study, not even in his 100-page introduction, Overview and Syntheses of the Current State of Research. Xavier Léon-Dufour strongly endorsed Corsini’s work in his foreword to a French translation, L’Apocalypse maintenant. Ugo Vanni (L’Apocalisse, 11n12) remarks that Corsini’s interesting work deserves attention, but he does not otherwise refer to it in his 390-page study. An exception is the commentary by Edmondo Lupieri, L’Apocalisse di Giovanni. Lupieri is now a professor at Loyola University in Chicago. An English version of his work is available: A Commentary on the Apocalypse of John.

2. Aune, Revelation; Boxall, Revelation of Saint John; C. Koester, Revelation. It is not considered in the overview of Morton, Recent Research on Revelation. For Aune’s rejection of Corsini’s interpretation of Apoc. 11:4–8 and 13:8, see Revelation, 2:440, 447, 746–48. For Koester’s bibliography, see Revelation, 153–206. I take this first of many references to Craig Koester’s commentary as an occasion to share my admiration for it. His understanding of the text’s social context—an eschatologically oriented appeal to Christians suffering from persecution and the challenge of the Roman imperial cult (which the following study questions)—his lucid reading of its logic, his careful and wide-ranging use of sources, his clarity in writing, and his sound theological-pastoral applications make this commentary a classic.

3. Corsini, The Apocalypse: The Perennial Revelation of Jesus Christ; henceforth: Apocalypse.

4. G. K. Beale’s large commentary The Book of Revelation indicates a familiarity with the English edition of Corsini’s work. However, he regards Corsini’s interpretation of the silence of 8:1 as unusual (p. 421), and his explanation of the thousand-year reign of 20:4–6 as most unusual and unconvincing (p. 1017). Beale’s monograph John’s Use of the Old Testament in Revelation does not refer to Corsini. More than any other contemporary interpreter, like Corsini, Beale insists upon the biblical tradition as John’s basic source and inspiration, and generally looks beyond the Roman situation to a more universal history of good and evil in his interpretations. This must also be said of the fine recent commentary of Sigve T. Tonstad, Revelation. See his summary on pp. 3–29.

5. The seminal studies of Leonard L. Thompson (The Book of Revelation: Apocalypse and Empire) and Steven J. Friesen (Imperial Cults and the Apocalypse of John: Reading Revelation in the Ruins) are important representatives of contemporary scholarship that questions the paradigm of a Christian response to the imperial cult and persecution. See also Wes Howard-Brook and Anthony Gwyther, Unveiling Empire: Reading Revelation Then and Now. In his presentation of the Apocalypse for the confused, Michael J. Gorman (Reading Revelation Responsibly) argues that John calls for a life of worship and witness that rejects the idolatry of secular power. For a recent study, unavailable to me, arguing a more traditional perspective, see Robert Mucha’s Der apokalyptische Kaiser. See the review by Russell Morton in Review of Biblical Literature, June 2018. The imperial cult is only one of the elements to be considered as background to the Apocalypse. It was a contemporary example of what John understood as long-standing political and religious corruption.

6. Corsini, Apocalisse di Gesù Cristo secondo Giovanni. This edition takes into account the work of Prigent, L’Apocalypse de Saint Jean; Lupieri, Apocalypse; and Giesen, Offenbarung. Corsini’s Apocalisse di Gesù Cristo was reprinted four times between 2002 and 2010. In what follows, I cite it as Apocalisse. All translations from European languages are mine. For a comprehensive list of Corsini’s published work on the Apocalypse, see Mazzucco, La passione di Eugenio Corsini per l’Apocalisse, 37–40.

7. Corsini’s theological presuppositions strongly influence his interpretation. They often lead to overly bold claims about God, Jesus Christ, the church, sin and evil, and the relationships among them. I soften many of these claims in what follows. However, clearly stated theological presuppositions enrich biblical interpretation. Receiving and interpreting a document written and received in faith and for faith (Rudolf Bultmann) requires theological interpretation.

8. This is the point of the citations from Melito of Sardis and Cyril of Jerusalem on the dedication page of this study. Melito is cited (with slight corrections to the English) from Hall, Melito of Sardis, On Pascha and Fragments, 59–61. Cyril is cited from McCauley and Stephenson, Works of Cyril of Jerusalem, 2:53. The Greek text is from PG 33:869.

9. See above, n. 5.

10. Readers will find that my attempt to dialogue respectfully with a representative sample of contemporary commentators on the Apocalypse leads to lengthy footnotes and a plethora of possible interpretations. There is no other book in the NT that generates such differences of opinion. For a recent study that documents current German scholarship, see Labahn, Book of Revelation.

11. This decision limits the scope of the study that follows. I do not discuss important foundational works: Wilhelm Bousset’s Die Offenbarung Johannis introduced a serious history of religions approach; Robert H. Charles’s A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Revelation of St. John developed a strong case for the document as composed of several originally distinct sources. Many of the great modern and contemporary commentaries are also not taken into consideration. To mention some of the major works, see Swete, The Apocalypse of Saint John; Kiddle, Revelation of St. John; Caird, Revelation of St. John the Divine; Massyngberde Ford, Revelation; Mounce, Book of Revelation; Beasley-Murray, Book of Revelation; Sweet, Revelation; Harrington, Revelation. A full discussion of these and other monographs and journal articles can be found in the notes and footnotes of the works selected as discussion partners for what follows (esp. Giesen [1997], Aune [1997–98], Beale [1999], Prigent [2001], and Koester [2014]). Although these scholars sometimes differ quite markedly in the interpretation of details, especially whether God’s victory is this-worldly (e.g., C. Koester: the definitive establishment of God’s kingdom) or otherworldly (e.g., Beale: God’s final eschatological intervention), they accept that the book was written for suffering Christians, promising them God’s eschatological victory over evil.

12. A. Y. Collins, Apocalypse; Boring, Revelation; Brütsch, La Clarté de l’Apocalypse; Bauckham, Climax of Prophecy; Bauckham, Theology of the Book of Revelation; Resseguie, Revelation of John.

13. On the Apocalypse as a narrative, see (among several works) Barr, Apocalypse of John in the Light of Modern Narrative Theory; C. Koester, Revelation, 115–22; Prigent, Apocalypse, 17–20. For my understanding and application of this approach, see Moloney, Belief in the Word, 1–22. For a recent narrative reading of the document, see Resseguie, Revelation of John. For the application of narrative-critical criteria to the Apocalypse, see Resseguie, Revelation of John, 17–59. Resseguie, however, does not use the temporal reading of the narrative in the way described above. He moves back and forth across the narrative to find evidence to support his interpretations. My reading rarely draws parallels from later in the narrative. Only when the reader/hearer arrives there can unresolved puzzles from the earlier reading/hearing experiences be enlightened and thus clarified. The Apocalypse is full of such entanglements. See the assessment of the work of Barr and Resseguie in Morton, Recent Research on Revelation, 75–77, 80–81.

14. My priority will always be the allusions to Israel’s Scriptures, rather than Jewish apocalyptic and classical literature. My dialogue with a selected cross section of modern and contemporary interpretations of the Apocalypse leads to admiration for the scholarship involved. Nevertheless, although these commentators use the same interpretative paradigm (often with recourse to the same nonbiblical material), they produce very different interpretations.

15. See, e.g., Moloney, Gospel of Mark; Moloney, John: Text and Context; Moloney, Johannine Studies, 1975–2017; Moloney, Gospel Interpretation and Christian Life.

16. See, among many, the parallel remarks from Giesen, Offenbarung, 11. For a rich survey of these attempts, down to 1965, see Brütsch, La Clarté. At the end of his study of each literary section of the Apocalypse, Brütsch provides fascinating reflections on the reception of the book across the centuries. One can find comprehensive surveys of interpretations across the centuries in the three volumes of Aune, Revelation, and especially in C. Koester, Revelation. All four of these studies, however, accept that the Apocalypse appeared during the persecutions of Domitian to address suffering Christians in Asia, most likely the suffering Christian churches addressed in Apoc. 2:1–3:22.

17. Thompson, Book of Revelation, 2. See his valuable remarks regarding pluralist readings on pp. 1–5.

Abbreviations

One

Introduction

Introductory decisions about the book of the Apocalypse inevitably affect an eventual interpretation of the text itself. Detailed investigations into the identification of a possible author; the unity of the text as we have it; the date of its composition; the author’s use of Jewish, classical, and other early Christian traditions; the social setting of its reception; its genre, literary structure, and rhetorical features; and the reliability of the textual tradition have been examined in detail by recent commentators.1 These important questions will only be touched on in this chapter. Given the abundance of excellent treatments, there is no need to rehearse them again. Mainstream critical opinion is well established. However, some interpretive possibilities other than that lying behind the following interpretation of the Apocalypse call for closer focus. This introduction will offer a discussion of these and then propose a detailed literary structure of the document. It suggests that the argument of the Apocalypse does not close with a consoling message of God’s definitive eschatological triumph over the wicked, but confidently proclaims the perennial saving effects of Jesus’ death and resurrection.

Introductory Questions

Most contemporary commentators regard the text as a unified literary whole, whatever its prehistory may have been, and interpret the text without recourse to possible earlier and later editions.2 Others, puzzled by apparent literary non sequiturs, and especially by different strata within the book that appear to reflect earlier (60s CE) and later (90–110 CE) periods, identify a number of editions. Some have suggested that the earliest strata may come from the pre-Christian reflections of an eventual Christian convert from Judaism.3

Decisions scholars make about the period of life in the early church reflected in the book and its numerous visions, exhortations, blessings, and condemnations influence the sources they propose for the text. It appears to hint at the first documented persecution of Christians by the emperor Nero (64 CE), who ruled from 54 to 68 CE,4 and allude to the sentiment, widespread in the late first century, that Nero was not dead but would return from the East (Parthia) to overthrow the current Roman authority. This so-called Nero redivivus expectation is generally associated with such passages as the description of the beast rising out of the earth in 13:12 (It exercises all the authority of the first beast on its behalf, and it makes the earth and its inhabitants worship the first beast, whose mortal wound had been healed)5 and the interpretation of the number 666 as Nero Caesar.6 Since late in the second Christian century, especially under of the influence of Irenaeus’s Against Heresies 5.30.3 (ca. 180 CE), the book of the Apocalypse has been associated with the latter years of the emperor Domitian (reigned 81–96 CE). It is possible, especially if one resorts to a theory of multiple editions, that the Apocalypse reflects traditions that come from across fifty years, from the 60s until the end of the first century CE. Some suggest that they reach into the early second century and the reign of the emperor Trajan (98–117).

Close attention devoted to the study of the Gospels over more than a century has made it clear that NT narratives are the result of a long literary history.7 This is also the case for the Apocalypse. Some of the material in the final document may have come from the Neronic period (64–68 CE), from the years between Nero and Domitian, and from the latter years of Domitian (91–96 CE). Indeed, it would be incredible if such were not the case. Difficulties arise in any attempt, however detailed and scholarly, to determine, down to the verse, the half-verse, and even the single word, what belonged to various editions, and the process by which they were eventually unified into the Apocalypse, already part of early Christian literature by the time of Justin Martyr (100–165 CE).8 For theological reasons, and no doubt for pastoral reasons, an author late in the first century gathered prophetic and apocalyptic material and added his own contribution to address a Christian audience. His contribution was the final production of the document as we have it in the Christian Scriptures. Whatever may have been the Sitze im Leben der Kirche that produced earlier strata, they have been taken over by the point of view that determines the shape and the message of our Christian book of the Apocalypse.9

The question of authorship has also been widely debated. The Apocalypse is regarded as being part of the so-called Johannine literature, a corpus made up of the Gospel of John, 1–3 John, and the Apocalypse. Among these five potentially independent documents, only in the Apocalypse does an author name himself John (Apoc. 1:1, 4, 9; 22:8). The identification of John the son of Zebedee as the author of the Apocalypse was made very early by Justin Martyr. It continued in Irenaeus’s association of the Beloved Disciple of the Gospel of John with Jesus’ disciple John the son of Zebedee late in the second century CE (Haer. 2.22.5; 3.1.2; 3.3.4; 3.11.7; 5.30.3).

A few early authorities questioned the association of an apostle with the Apocalypse. The Roman priest Gaius (early third century CE) regarded the document as lacking in authentic Christian teaching and suggested that it may have been written by an obscure heretic, Cerinthus, influenced by the ascetical Jewish-Christian Ebionites. Dionysius of Alexandria (latter half of the third century) pointed out that it differed too radically from the Johannine Gospel and Letters. Both writers raised the possibility that the author was a figure known as John the Elder (presbyteros), whose activity in Asia Minor, and especially Ephesus, is sometimes acknowledged.10

The suggestions of Gaius and Dionysius are preserved as fragments reported by the first Christian church historian, Eusebius, in the fourth book of his Historia ecclesiastica early in the fourth century CE (ca. 322–26 CE).11 About a third of that book discusses the authorship of the Apocalypse. In Eusebius’s interpretation of Christian history, the first Roman emperor to favor Christianity, Constantine (274–337 CE; reigned 306–37 CE), played a key role. Eusebius’s appreciation of Constantine as a God-sent figure who brought God’s rule to the kingdoms of this world influenced his interpretation of the Apocalypse. For Eusebius, the millenarian interpretation, generated by the exegetical puzzle of the thousand-year reign of those who had not worshiped the beast in 20:4–6, did not do justice to Constantine, the divinely appointed Roman emperor. Eusebius therefore is ambiguous about the authorship of the Apocalypse. He joins Gaius and Dionysius in raising the possibility that it is the work of John the Elder of Ephesus, and not John the disciple of Jesus.

Nevertheless, these voices are rare exceptions. From earliest Christian times John, the son of Zebedee, has been regarded as the author of the Apocalypse. Some contemporary scholars continue to regard the apostle as the likely author.12

Majority scholarship, however, would claim that it is not possible for us to identify the person and the role of the author with any precision. Most would reject the suggestion that the same person wrote the Gospel of John and the Apocalypse of John. They would also reject that the apostle John the son of Zebedee wrote the Gospel or the Apocalypse. The author names himself John, and that name should be accepted. Given that much of the document contains visions of heavenly and earthly events, the author has often been given the name John the Seer. However, this was a widely used name, and there are no clear indications who this John might be. We simply do not have enough information from the world that produced the Apocalypse, or from the document itself, to make a firm decision about the precise identity of the John of the Apocalypse.

However, the location of the writing is less in doubt. There is no serious reason to question the location of his writing at Patmos, an island close to the eastern coast of Asia Minor. John reports that he is there "because of the word of God [dia ton logon tou theou] and the testimony of Jesus [kai tēn martyrian Iēsou]" (Apoc. 1:9). These words are widely interpreted as indicating forced imprisonment in Patmos because of his Christian faith.13 John the Seer’s use of the expression testimony (martyria) and its associated witness (martys) suggests the introduction of a theme of witnessing that has wider ramifications across the Apocalypse. As we will see in our reading of 1:9–20, the Greek original could indicate that he was in Patmos as a consequence of his Christian missionary activity. That role brought tribulation and required patient endurance (1:9).14

Perhaps the best we can do in our search for the identity of the author is to cite a modified version of David Aune’s description:

While the final author-editor of Revelation was named John, it is not possible to identify him with any other early Christian figures of the same name, including John the son of Zebedee or the shadowy figure of John the Elder. The otherwise unknown author of Revelation in its final form was probably a Palestinian Jew who had emigrated to the Roman province of Asia. . . . He regarded himself as a Christian prophet.15

Literary Questions

What we have summarized to this point reflects mainstream contemporary scholarship. The author is an unknown John, using an apocalyptic literary form that also contains some letters to write prophetically.16 The document as we have it most likely appeared late in the first century, either in the final years of Domitian or earliest years of Trajan (i.e., 95–100 CE). It has some features of a letter, especially in its opening (1:4–6) and its closing (22:21). The use of the letters to the seven churches (2:1–3:22) links it to the genre of a letter, although those letters do not follow the traditional form of an early Christian letter (which does appear in the address of 1:4–5). The document was written by a Christian to be communicated to fellow Christians, and the use of letter features indicates that such was the case.17 However, the Apocalypse cannot be formally identified as an early Christian letter. Its major literary characteristics are apocalyptic and prophetic.18

However, we must be clear about what we mean in our use of those labels when speaking of the NT Apocalypse. As is well known, the literary form that we name apocalypse has its biblical origins in the OT, especially (but not only) in Daniel 7–12. In addition to our document in the NT, it was a widely used literary form in nonbiblical literature, in Jewish (e.g., 1 Enoch, 2 Enoch, 2 Baruch, and 3 Baruch) and Jewish-Christian (e.g., Testament of Levi and Testament of Abraham) writings. It also appears in nonbiblical Christian literature (e.g., Shepherd of Hermas, Apocalypse of Peter, and Ascension of Isaiah). John J. Collins has proposed a widely accepted and often-cited definition of an apocalypse:

a genre of revelatory literature with a narrative framework, in which a revelation is mediated by an otherworldly being to a human recipient, disclosing a transcendent reality which is both temporal, insofar as it envisions eschatological salvation, and spatial insofar as it involves another, supernatural world.19

There is no doubt that John’s Apocalypse corresponds well to the bulk of this general definition: revelation, mediation of a transcendent world, and the establishment of the new Jerusalem.20

However, as this commentary hopes to show, its genre differs from the bulk of apocalyptic literature in one critical point. John Collins suggests that an apocalypse envisions an eschatological salvation. In other words, God’s final saving intervention will mark the end of all time, the eschaton. The problem with labeling the Apocalypse as a Christian version of traditional Jewish apocalypticism is that this label determines the interpretation. To use a well-worn image: the tail wags the dog. This approach does not do justice to the fact that the victory of the Lamb is portrayed from the beginning of the document, and steadily, almost rhythmically, across the narrative, as already won. As is increasingly recognized, the Apocalypse offers consolation in its proclamation that God’s victory is not located in the future. The victory has already been won. The results of that victory are effective for those who have eyes to see and who live according to what they see. The book becomes a lens allowing the audience to see the world from its foundation and for all its history in precisely that way (see 13:8).21

A fascinating sequence of genres follows, each with its own contribution to the argument of the book. After the salutation of 1:1–3, John presents Jesus Christ in the prologue to the document as part of a heavenly Trinity, the firstborn from among the dead, and the ruler of kings on earth (vv. 4–6). The audience participates in the letters to the seven churches, and the text may have a deeper meaning than seven letters of exhortations and warnings to seven churches in Asia (2:1–3:22). Behind the letters the audience senses allusions to Israel’s sacred history, beginning with the primeval history of Genesis (Apoc. 2:4–5, 7). They close with the message of Christ, standing at the door, knocking. The promises made to the victors across the letters (see 2:7, 11, 17, 26–28; 3:5, 12, 21) may be not eschatological prediction but rhetorical appeal summoning the audience to be a truly Christian people and church, a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father (1:6).22

Following the letters is the vision of a solemn liturgy that takes place in heaven (4:1–5:15). The climax of that vision is the appearance of a Lamb, already victorious, slain yet standing (5:6). The heavenly court sings his praise, recognizing that his death has ransomed all humankind (5:9–14). Because of this he is worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals (v. 9). The Lamb receives universal praise and worship (vv. 11–14). The narrative has only just begun, yet John proclaims that the victory took place in the slain yet standing Lamb.

This victory is narrated not only before the sevens of the seals, the trumpets, and the bowls; it is repeated as each seven closes. It is repeated first in the silence that characterizes the opening of the seventh seal (8:1), marking the end of the period from creation to Jesus’ death and resurrection (see 7:1–8) and the establishment of the period of universal salvation enabled by that death and resurrection (7:9–17).23 It is then promised that, in the blowing of the seventh trumpet, the mystery of God will be fulfilled (10:7). The blowing of the seventh trumpet results in the opening of God’s temple, as the kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Messiah (11:15).

Finally, the Lamb’s victory reappears at the conclusion of the pouring out of the bowls. John addresses the ambiguity of the human condition (12:1–18) and describes the action of Satan’s agents in spreading evil (13:1–18) and God’s initial intervention on behalf of the saints of Israel (14:1–20). Prefaced by a heavenly encounter, the seven bowls are poured out (15:1–16:21). The battle of Harmagedon tells of the definitive conflict between good and evil at the cross of Jesus Christ.24 The victory is once more announced: It is done (16:17). John spells out the consequences of this definitive victory in detail. Babylon is destroyed (17:1–19:10), all evil power is definitively eliminated by God’s victory in the death and resurrection of Jesus (19:11–20:15), and the chosen ones are gathered into the messianic kingdom, which may not be otherworldly, but a God-given Christian community on earth (21:1–22:5). The audience is not given a road map for God’s otherworldly, eschatological victory. Rather, they are instructed repeatedly that life and light have been made available through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ (see 22:1–5). Our understanding of the Apocalypse’s genre cannot be determined by a narrow focus on victory that is eschatological in character.

A look at the theme of persecution leads to the same conclusion. The Apocalypse does not hold its audience in anxious tension, dominated by exhortation to endure persecution and suffering or to resist false claims to divinity, waiting for God’s final saving intervention. These themes, especially the theme of resistance, are certainly present, but they are not the key to its secrets, as claimed by much commentary on the Apocalypse.25 John repeats, over and over, that the victory has already been won by the Lamb who was slain since the foundation of the world (13:8). Among others, Craig Koester has recognized this odd aspect of the document when read as a thoroughgoing example of an apocalyptic literary form. He points out that Revelation departs from the usual pattern of apocalyptic literature, but he does not carry this recognition far enough. He states that the eschatological struggle had already begun with the Messiah’s exaltation and would culminate at his return. Those events define the present time.26 However, this does not explain John’s repeated claim that the victory has already been won; indeed, It is done (16:17). For John, it has not already begun with the Messiah’s exaltation. It is not in process during the present time. It has already been realized in the perennially available saving action of God in the death and resurrection of Jesus. It is available in the new Jerusalem, the Christian church. Like all Christian communities, however, John’s audience must live during the in-between time (see 22:20), resisting the allure of the corrupt abuse of religious and political authority.

The recipients of John’s Apocalypse faced difficulties. The widespread influence of the Greco-Roman religious practices within the powerful and universal political presence of the Roman Empire no doubt created many of these difficulties.27 Some of them, if we are to judge by what is said to the seven churches (see 2:4, 14–16, 20–23; 3:1–3, 15–16), arise from the fragility of their own commitment. However, John does not ask them to wait in faith and hope for God’s final eschatological victory. The document is studded, from beginning to end, with proclamations of the victory of God from all time in and through the slain and risen Lamb (see 5:6, 9–14, 8:1; 11:15–19; 16:17; 17:1–22:5). There must be a tension, as in all Christian literature, between what God has already achieved in and through Jesus Christ and his final return. However, the victory has been won. God’s saving history, revealed throughout Israel’s story and in the Christian church, rejoices in what God has done for humankind across history in and through the saving effect of the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, from before the foundation of the world (see 5:6; 13:8).

Not alone in the writings of the NT, John’s Christians are being exhorted to recognize that they live in the light of a victory already won.28 John the Seer, like the author of the Fourth Gospel, shares belief in a realized eschatology with his audience (see John 1:12; 3:14–15; 3:16, 18, 36; 4:23; 5:25, etc.). As the author of the Gospel of John was also aware, this does not do away with the need for a traditional belief in a definitive end time (see John 5:28; 6:39–40, 44, 45; 11:26, etc.).29 This is the case for the Apocalypse. John instructs his audience on what God has already achieved. They are nevertheless exhorted to call out, Come, Lord Jesus! (22:20).30 The use of the category realized eschatology does not indicate that all expectations of God’s final intervention in the return of Jesus Christ as judge have been eliminated from John’s understanding of sacred history. John exhorts the recipients of the Apocalypse to live confidently in the glitter of a Greco-Roman world, aware of the saving effects of the death and resurrection of Jesus. But they must still face the challenges of a world marked by the ambiguous presence of grace and sin: Let the evildoer still do evil, and the filthy still be filthy, and the righteous still do right, and the holy still be holy (22:11; see also vv. 14–15). Such ambiguity will be finally resolved only when the Lord Jesus comes (22:20).

The literary notices present in the book itself suggest that John regards his work as prophecy (1:3; 19:10; 22:7, 10, 18, 19). He has a commission to prophesy (10:11). He is described as someone who belongs to a brotherhood of prophets (22:10; see v. 6). Scholars generally link this feature of John’s work with his choice of the apocalyptic genre. Like John, the biblical prophets receive the heavenly communication of the word of the Lord (e.g., Mic. 1:1; Isa. 1:1–2; Jer. 1:1–2; Hosea 1:1; Joel 1:1–2; Amos 1:1–2; Zeph. 1:1–2) and share visions of the heavenly realm, where they receive a message to speak to the people (e.g., Isa. 6:1–12; Ezek. 1:1–2:8; 8:1–9:11). Like John, the prophets see startling signs (four horsemen: Zech. 1:7–11; 6:1–8; cosmic portents in the sky: Isa. 13:10; 34:4; Joel 2:10, 30–31), and John shares with Ezekiel a commission to prophesy after eating a scroll written on two sides (Ezek. 2:1–3:1; Apoc. 5:1; 10:1–11). Like the visions in Daniel 7:1–14, John’s visions are sometimes explained by an interpreting angel (Dan. 7:15–28; Apoc. 10:8–11; 17:1–3, 7–17; 19:9–10; 21:9–14; 22:1–6, 8–9).

This link with traditional biblical prophecy is certainly a major feature of John’s practice; he interlaces his narrative with allusions to the biblical prophets, especially Isaiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel. Unlike much commentary on the Apocalypse, the interpretation that follows takes it for granted that the Hebrew Bible, and not contemporary Jewish or Jewish-Christian apocalypses, forms the essential literary backbone to the Apocalypse, even though it is never directly cited.31

However, there was another understanding of the expression prophet in early Christianity, no doubt a prolongation of the spirit of traditional prophecy, that is not to be identified with OT prophecy.32 Although there were most likely so-called prophets who dwelled on the fringes of the communities because of their ecstatic claims of access to the word of God, with Montanism as the best-known example,33 early Christian prophecy was also a part of the ongoing interpretation, development, and articulation of the teaching of Jesus. It is an outgrowth of OT prophecy. As has been so often shown in Gospel studies, many of the so-called words of Jesus are in fact words of early Christian prophets. John the Seer fits into both. In his important study of early Christian prophecy, David Aune points out that "the distinctive feature of prophetic speech was not so much its content or form, but its supernatural origin.34 John’s prophetic utterances would all claim to be supernatural in their origin, but they are more: they address Christians at the end of the first century with the message of the saving effects of the death and resurrection of Jesus. As M. Eugene Boring puts it, Christian prophets were thus those who spoke the message of the risen Lord directly to the Christian community."35 Despite the use of the apocalyptic literary form to communicate the central message of early Christian prophecy, Jesus’ saving death and resurrection lie at the heart of the uniqueness of John’s Apocalypse.

In his 2001 presidential address to the Society of Biblical Literature, Harold W. Attridge suggested that the author of the Fourth Gospel regularly used traditional genres that lead an audience to expect usual outcomes. But he bends them, thus taking an audience into unexpected and unexplored possibilities.36 Attridge describes the practice as follows: In many cases where it is possible to identify significant generic parallels, and therefore presume that the form in question generates regular expectations, the reader encounters something quite odd about the way in which the generic conventions seem to work.37 John the Seer’s marriage of letter-prophetic-apocalyptic literary forms, with the dominant form being apocalyptic, bends expectations. For Attridge, this practice leaves the reader of the Gospel of John baffled by a bent identity form and a transformed gospel genre.38 To borrow from Attridge, perhaps the Apocalypse is a bent identity form and a transformed apocalyptic genre.39

For Attridge, the key to the Fourth Gospel’s genre-bending is its teaching on the incarnation that defies all categories: Genres are bent because words themselves are bent.40 Perhaps a parallel bending of genres is going on in the Apocalypse. The dominant genre is apocalyptic, as (among many) David Aune has shown.41 However, the genre is bent. The expectation is that an author’s use of the apocalyptic genre envisions an eschatological salvation. But for John the Seer, though the message of God’s intervention in the descent of the heavenly Jerusalem remains future-oriented, God is already victorious in the death and resurrection of Jesus. The gift of the heavenly Jerusalem may refer to the earthly reality of the Christian church, not an end-time eschatological salvation. This means that the notion of the new Jerusalem may not be eschatological, in the traditional sense of an otherworldly destruction of evil and reward for the faithful. The key to the Apocalypse’s genre-bending is the death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, a consequence of the incarnation, an event that took place once and for all within the human story. For John, this event transformed human history, from the beginning of time until the present age. It is the centerpoint of God’s perennial saving presence, giving meaning to the whole of human history.42

Five matters external to the document are crucial for, and taken for granted by, the mainstream interpretative paradigm. As is clear from the following interaction with both classical and contemporary interpretation, scholarship is now asking questions about these matters, and the study that follows joins in that questioning.

There is no evidence that Patmos was ever used as a penal settlement for persecuted Christians.43 The only piece of evidence is Apocalypse 1:9. Perhaps John’s self-introduction may be more about his missionary and prophetic role than his endurance as a persecuted Christian.

There is little or no evidence that Christians suffered a systematic persecution under Domitian.44 This is nowadays widely acknowledged. As an alternative background, many claim that Domitian imposed the emperor cult on the whole empire and that the Apocalypse is a response to this false claim to divine authority.45 However, this aspect of Domitian’s reign is also questionable. Evidence for the practice of emperor worship in Asia is widespread, but evidence for the persecution of the Asian Christians for lack of observance of the cults is hard to find.46 As Ramsay MacMullen puts it, Had the church been wiped off the face of the earth at the end of the first century, its disappearance would have caused no dislocation in the empire, just as its presence was hardly noticed at the time. . . . Simply, it did not count.47 Adela Collins rightly recognizes this historical reality; she suggests that the setting was not so much the experience of persecution and the dangers of emperor worship but the expectation that this might happen, and that the Apocalypse is John’s call to Christians to recognize how they must behave and believe in that setting.48 Certain trends are distinguishable in the evolving discourse during the first and early second century, but these are not dramatic enough to require that Revelation is a response to them.49

Almost all interpreters read 1:10–11, 19–20, and 2:1–3:22 as an indication of the recipients of this apocalyptic circular letter and the reason why John wrote it. Clearly there are strengths and weaknesses in the Asian churches, spelled out in the so-called letters of 2:1–3:22. John addressed those weaknesses, mostly the result of a lukewarmness among Christians in the midst of a false, godlike authority in the Roman Empire and the problems generated for young